Quotessence
Home / Topics / Poems On Love Quotes

Poems On Love Quotes

Browse 59 quotes about Poems On Love.

Poems On Love Quotes

“You were a language I learned by ear, syllables pressed into the curve of my neck, intonations traced along my spine. But love, I have forgotten how to conjugate us— the past imperfect, the future conditional, sentences unraveling into tenses that no longer hold.”

“And as the Moon eclipsed, sulking in envy, he wailed to the Earth "I wonder how you could never see, My deep Love for you - illuminating, beautifying your world when the Sun leaves you hurled... But despite it all, you still revolve around the Sun, who shuns you here in the dark, half the run." The Earth confessed with teary eyes still retaining a smile "It is not the Sun that leaves me, It is me who turns away, blocking his light. But yet his love for me is far more magnanimous, for he lights you up to render me luminous." Cosmic Love”

“Do you believe in soulmates? Do you believe in the concept of love? Do you know how powerful one’s love could be if chained too long? Do you believe in romance, in tragedy? In Love At First Sight? Do you understand how one’s very mind can shatter under such spells? Are you aware how many lives have been stolen in the beautiful name of the world’s deadliest weapon, Love? Are you able to comprehend how important Love is in one’s life, despite being able to take so many away so easily? Love is as a diamond sword–beautiful, but made to kill. Love is as a square of chocolate–sweet, yet hypnotizing and obsessive. Oh, if only I could count how many died at Love’s hand. Oh, if only I could begin to measure how many weep over not meeting their One. Oh, if only Love wasn’t as beautiful as it is cruel.”

“The Green Rose by Stewart Stafford Through fractured eyes, I see the rose I once plucked, In another man's hands. And mistakes that cannot be unmade, Sins that must go unforgiven, A resigned reluctance to surrender all hope. Those fingers enwrapping, The slender stem, That only holds spiky thorns for me now. I watch and reminisce, So close and familiar, Yet so alien and barren. I turn and walk away, Leaving the green rose, In place on the grave of what once was. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

“Not anyone who says, “I’m going to be careful and smart in matters of love,” who says, “I’m going to choose slowly,” but only those lovers who didn’t choose at all but were, as it were, chosen by something invisible and powerful and uncontrollable and beautiful and possibly even unsuitable — only those know what I’m talking about in this talking about love.”

“Saturday Sonnet by Stewart Stafford The Bard once wrote that love is blind, Desire’s muslin cloth veils the eyes behind, As a hog for truffles nosing in dirt, The human sniffs out a way to flirt, Flippant words become overture, And a dungeon-dweller emerges pure, Love’s great story blossoming anew, Past indiscretions in a penitent’s pew, Hearts as one, a confluence of minds, Time to think of the tie that binds, Sure of footing and glad of heart Wheels turning on a bridal cart, Handsome husband, pretty wife, Set out together in this thing called life. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

“Your voice is the only alarm that I’ll actually wake up to. Your laugh is that one song they play way too much on the radio, but for some reason, I still love it. Your smile is the only thing that makes me hate mornings a little less. Your hands are my security, like knowing that even when I drive you nuts, you’re still gonna reach for me. And my arm always falls asleep when you do because I just want to be able to hold you even in your dreams.”

“Darling, don’t say it’s me that you love, But that you love how I make you feel on the weekends. Don’t say you have to go, admit there’s nothing more to let me know. Don’t say it was a good movie, tell me that it was a good break. Don’t say you like her hair, tell me that it’s just different. Don’t say your father’s evil, tell me that it’s ignorance. Don’t say you feel like dying, tell me life would be better without bills. Don’t say you hate crying, but that you hate when they see you ill. Don’t say you love the winter, tell me you like the gifts. Don’t say you want a vacation when you really want a kiss.”

“His body is a masterpiece, inked in stories I long to trace. Each muscle, carved like a goddess’ desire, tempts my fingertips to linger. His smile disarms me, melts my doubts into longing. His voice—low, smooth—sends shivers down my spine. And his touch… oh, his touch—electric, addictive, unforgettable. Against his chest, I find solace, the rhythm of his heartbeat my lullaby. His ambition is wildfire, a force that builds empires— Yet in my arms, he is simply mine. Imperfect, yet perfect in every way that matters. I don’t yet know his love, but I crave the way it would feel. And something tells me, maybe, he craves me too.”

“With the truth that you have gone out of my life, This is also true: you never left my heart and mind. Always walking with me, every step, side by side, And each moment, I feel you beside. You’re gone, you’re gone, And you left in my soul, dark seams. You left in my soul, dark seams. And every night, I’m chasing you in my dreams. I’m chasing you in my dreams. Not to blame you, not to probe you, Neither do I want To show anger or insult you. Just to feel your love again, mmm, Just to feel your love again, One more time, Hold me in your hug for a while, If it’s the last time. To feel your touch again, I’m chasing you in my dreams. In that moment when time defies, To kiss you with deep, endless eyes. To see your face in moonlit beams, Every night, I’m chasing you in my dreams. Let’s come, sit down together, and compose again. Let’s try to write our story, this time without pain. There was only one last note misplayed In our love song. Otherwise, after all, To each other we belong. To make you hear my screams— Every night, I’m chasing you in my dreams. I’m growing tired, enough is enough. Leave me now, this bloody pain—let it end. In shadows deep, where nothing redeems, I seek the peace that silence redeems. But... Nothing’s going to change, It clearly seems. So... to die in your embrace, Every night, I’m chasing you in my dreams. So... to die in your embrace, Every night, I’m chasing you in my dreams. I’m chasing you in my dreams.”

“Love and time It was as if time had gone on a vacation, At least it was not there where I was now, Because there I could not feel her sensation, So it was a world without her beauty, thus a world without love, Time appeared to transition from one moment to another, But I could not feel its presence, For a while I thought I was in a world, that was some other, As my heart did not experience life’s romance, In her absence time appeared to be on a vacation, The world seemed to have come to a sudden halt, Without her, world’s charms had lost all their traction, And I wondered whether it was my or time’s fault, Everything and everyone moved, and life happened just like any day, But to me somehow time appeared to be somewhere else, Because it felt it was not here today, And maybe only her presence can convince me it is false, Maybe time has drowned in the past, Forgotten somewhere in her infinite memories, And my mind still recreates only moments from the past, And convinces the heart to keep beating for the sake of her old stories, Or is it that the present is an illusion of shadows, Shadows from the past, her and my past, And the present only from this past borrows, So I am in this illusion of timelessness cast, But whatever it might be, Whether time is here or somewhere else, She, her memories; are intact within me, And my every heartbeat still says, there cannot be anyone else, So, there is no need to seek time that has vanished suddenly, Because I have installed her memories everywhere, And now time has left me in my peaceful corner knowingly, So I believe, time is somewhere else, but not here, not here, And my love Irma, let me escape with you into this corner, Where time has no business, And just be your lover, And let that be my only business, For time will then lose its pride, someday, in that somewhere, where it has fled, And it will offer us it's rarest gift of eternity, Because my love, a rose by its own thorn is never hurt or bled, So instead of time, we shall live in the love’s sanity, Where time serves no purpose, Because everything exists for everything, There life offers no fake pose, It is then that love becomes a true virtue and not just a thing!”